A Song-Fic From Hogan's POV
by Pockets
Summary: I think I summed it up in the title. I'm so embarrassed I wrote one of these.
1. Default Chapter

Hey Shultz, heard any good secrets lately?

Just the one about your surprise party.

__

I can't stand to fly

I'm not that naive

I'm just out to find

The better part of me

Col Hogan walked across the compound in a daze. He got to the door of barracks two and stopped, trying to shake of the emotion that he felt. His men were throwing him a party. _His _men. Stumbling sideways he lowered himself onto a bench next to the barracks door not seeing the butterfly resting there before he startled it into flight. As he watched it's affronted flutter into the space above him he drew a comparison between it's fluttering wings and the churning going on inside his gut and wondered not for the first time if the adrenaline was a curse or a saviour. 

__

I'm more than a Bird

I'm more than a plane

I'm more than some pretty face beside a train

It's not easy to be me

Leaning back he rolled his shoulders and stuck his hands into his pockets gripping the piece of paper that Kinch had handed to him early this morning. Home. He was going home. Back to home cooked dinners, sleeping for eight hours and flying. _Flying._ He could think of it again. Think about how much he missed exhilaration of the wide-open sky and the grace of handling the hunk of steel miles above the troubles of men below. Away from the responsibilities of roll calls, rations and whether or not Carter was going to kill himself playing with explosives. Carter. Newkirk. Lebeau. Kinch. Not moving his body he smiled fondly, wondering how the person who took his place would handle the constant bickering but still manage to fit into the natural brotherhood.

The niggling voice of doubt that he'd ignored up until now started to get louder.

__

Wish that I could cry

Fall upon my knees

Find away to lie

'bout a home I'll never see.

The butterfly was hovering over the de-lousing station now. He sighed and sat back, relishing the support of the strong wood behind him. How easy it would be to wash this feeling away, wash this whole world away and return to the paperwork of the pentagon.

Shifting his weight, he let his shoulders slump. "_A Heroes welcome". _He didn't want that, He'd never wanted that. All he wanted was to end this stupid war, rebuild the cities, and let the children trust. Simple really. 

He looked up at the wide blue expanse feeling the light heat from the sun on his face. He remembered that he liked the sun, liked the warmth that was lacking from the frost covered ditches and Gestapo holding cells.…but there was so much he could still do, so many suffering, how could he leave them and go back to 'paper-pushing'?

__

It may sound absurd – but don't be naive

Even Heroes have the right to bleed

I may be disturbed, but won't you concede

Even Heroes have the right to dream

Who was he kidding anyway? He'd hated the paperwork aspect of military life. He lived for flight and adventure. For as long as he could remember he'd wanted to fly. His earliest memories were of playing flying games as a kid with his brothers. 

__

His brothers….John. Where was he? Was he still alive? He remembered it had taken 3 months for Joe's letter to reach him and that had been six months ago. What had happened in between then and now? Could he handle sitting behind a desk knowing his baby brother was missing in enemy territory on the other side of the world?

__

It's not easy to be me

A nauseous suffocating feeling was starting to form in between his throat and lungs as the decision he was about to make started to become more solid. He shook his head slowly and glared at the sun _How can you get up in the morning? How can you still shine? _He knew the answer even as he asked it; The sun hadn't turned on the news this morning.

__

Up, up and away, away from here

It's all right – you can all sleep sound tonight

I'm not crazy…..or anything

The butterfly had finally reached the barbed wire fence on the edge of the compound and hovered. He stared at it, willing it to make the plunge, willing it to have the courage to do what he wouldn't. 

He thought back over the past two years. All his 'good' plans seemed to be spur of the moment. Like when he was a kid and he'd had those illegal fireworks. He would strike a match to light a cracker in the backyard – he'd point it in the air, light the fuse and pray that it wouldn't end up going through the side window of Old McKenzie's next door. He'd let it fly and maybe it would hit a bird, or some idiot kid from down the street would burn his finger trying to catch it, but the cracker would be zooming around and the kids would be jumping up and down and yelling and whatever happens, whatever goes wrong, he knew he was gonna be O.K, knew the kids who were around him were going to be all right, 'cause he was holding the matches – _he _was controlling the shots. 

Could he hand someone else the matches?

__

I can't stand to fly

I'm not that naive

Men weren't meant to ride

With clouds between their knees 

Pulling his left leg up he doffed his hat forward and rested his chin on his knee. He heard a bang inside that sounded like some one **clambering** over the centre table and suppressed a smile as he heard through the wall Newkirk telling off Carter. He waited for Lebeau's high pitch French to come to his defence. There it was. Now Kinch's steading voice breaking it up……._there_. Again he knew the answer before the question could fully be formed.

He'd stay. 

__

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet

Digging for Kryptonite on this one way street

Only a man in a funny red sheet

Looking for special things inside of me 

He couldn't help his blood brother, but he could help these men. And that's when he realized that that's what brotherhood and human goodness is all about – not what you get out of it, but what you give: Your smile, your pain, your laughter, your soul and if it's needed, your life. And it's not true until you're prepared to give it all. That's when you realize that you don't have to - those men in that room would never ask him for it, much less take it.

With that thought, he knew he couldn't cower with false bravado behind a desk at home. He'd turn down the orders. Leaning forward he placed his hands on either side of him and stared at the packed dirt around his feet. He'd go back into the barracks, catch his men mid preparation and tell Kinch to send off a message to London. He might not make it through the war, his brothers might not make it back home, but they'd stand and face whatever evil was going to try and dominate them together. One or more of them may fall, but there would be a bond to make sure that they didn't fall alone and they didn't fall too far. 

And he'd still be holding the matches.

__

It's not easy to be me.

Standing up he cast one more pinning look in the direction that the butterfly had gone before turning to reach for the handle of the door of Barracks Two. He gave a little smile so small that it could have been confused for a grimace, but it didn't matter 'cause nobody saw it, not even himself.

The adrenaline was a saviour.


	2. Author's note and thanks

I just brought the rights to Hogan's Heroes and I'm suing the lot of you. Please form a line to the left behind Patti and Marg.

Or not. I didn't really. I don't know who owns them to tell you the truth. Actually, special thanks to Patti and Marg for Betaing and for the characters of Joe and John. Thanks also due to Kits.

Thanks.

I started writing this on a camping trip about two months ago, and the situations are an attempt to reflect the friendship I have with the bunch of people I was with. From that I tried to draw a conclusion as to why Hogan decided to stay after being given the ticket home in the episode entitled _Hogan Go Home_. I hope you find it answers some questions. If not, no biggie, I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

The song is called _It's Not Easy _and is by Five for Fighting I think. I don't own it either.

Oh yeah, and the word 'clamber' is in bold because it was a challenge set by Lauren (the Oboe one) on a list we're on. *beams proudly at Lauren*

I think that's it. 

Have a nice day.


End file.
